the horses pawing the ground.
Rosalind was across the way, showing a couple of newcomers around. A vacationing family come to stay at the little studio apartment Ros rented out, judging by the clothes, the camera, and the heap of luggage. There was a dad, a mom, and two squirming little kids. Normally, he’d go over and introduce himself, but hell, in the state he was in, he’d probably scare them away.
He stomped to the work shed, grabbed a hammer and a can of nails, and set out to mend the broken paddock on the far side of the property — the far, far side. Banging at metal with metal suited his mood right now just fine. But even the din he made didn’t squelch the voices in his head.
Must have my mate! Must, or I’ll die!
He shook his head hard enough to rattle the voice away. Wondered if it was true. Wondered how much he’d mind dying. Maybe that was the best way out. He looked up and across the valley to where the abandoned train tracks lay. It didn’t take much to imagine an old-time locomotive rushing along, blowing a trail of steam. He imagined balancing on his toes on the tracks and watching it sweep closer, head on. The whistle would scream, the rails would vibrate, and it would be right on top of him, until,
bam!
The end.
A fly buzzed past his ear, and he went back to hammering. Wishing. Wondering.
Chapter Six
Janna shook all the way back to the saloon, and when she grabbed for the coffeepot to make another round of the customers, she made such a clatter, everyone in the saloon looked up.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, trying desperately not to turn around and chase Cole down for a second time.
Mate! Must help our mate!
her wolf shrieked, clawing wildly at the door of the mental cage she kept it locked behind.
She ground her teeth and took a deep breath. Cole needed some time, and holy cow, she did, too. She’d caught a glimpse of his eyes before he hurried away, and the gray-on-gray storm clouds she loved gazing at had bolts of lightning in them now. The classic sign of a Changeling, or so she’d heard.
Cole. Changeling. Wolf?
Mine! Mate!
She closed her eyes, trying to process it all. It wasn’t withdrawal that had made Cole moody these past few weeks — it was the Change happening inside him. Slowly perhaps, due to the small size of the scratch, but inexorably. And now, the transformation was accelerating.
No wonder her wolf had suddenly gone bonkers for him. As long as Cole was fully human, fate could keep her mate disguised. But now that he was turning into a shifter, his scent had intensified. Magnified. Maximized, so there was no mistaking it.
He was the one! Hers! Her destined mate!
Her heart pounded in her chest, so fast and hard, it felt like her ribcage might crack. She grabbed at the edge of the counter, fighting the overwhelmingly giddy feeling of it all.
Jesus, it really did happen. Destiny, bringing two souls together. Forever.
Her heart skipped, but her stomach lurched, remembering the way Cole stood beside his pickup. She’d cringed when she saw what he’d unconsciously done as she approached — namely, testing the air with his nose. Swinging his head left and right like a wolf following a faint trail. Tipping his chin up.
When his eyes met hers, the storm gray was lit with tiny flashes of green and brown. A telltale indicator of a Changeling — or man going slowly mad.
She wanted to grab him by the hand, race to her car, and drive far, far away.
As if that would work. As if she could outrun fate.
Her wolf raised its nose and let out a long, mournful howl.
Humans wounded by shifters usually died a drawn-out and painful death. Only a tiny minority survived, and most of those went slowly mad. Only the tiniest fraction survived — like Kyle Williams, the Twin Moon wolf who worked as a state cop. He and Rick Rivera, Tina Hawthorne’s mate, were the only two survivors Janna knew of. Women bitten by male shifters had a much higher survival rate because their bodies
Rosalind was across the way, showing a couple of newcomers around. A vacationing family come to stay at the little studio apartment Ros rented out, judging by the clothes, the camera, and the heap of luggage. There was a dad, a mom, and two squirming little kids. Normally, he’d go over and introduce himself, but hell, in the state he was in, he’d probably scare them away.
He stomped to the work shed, grabbed a hammer and a can of nails, and set out to mend the broken paddock on the far side of the property — the far, far side. Banging at metal with metal suited his mood right now just fine. But even the din he made didn’t squelch the voices in his head.
Must have my mate! Must, or I’ll die!
He shook his head hard enough to rattle the voice away. Wondered if it was true. Wondered how much he’d mind dying. Maybe that was the best way out. He looked up and across the valley to where the abandoned train tracks lay. It didn’t take much to imagine an old-time locomotive rushing along, blowing a trail of steam. He imagined balancing on his toes on the tracks and watching it sweep closer, head on. The whistle would scream, the rails would vibrate, and it would be right on top of him, until,
bam!
The end.
A fly buzzed past his ear, and he went back to hammering. Wishing. Wondering.
Chapter Six
Janna shook all the way back to the saloon, and when she grabbed for the coffeepot to make another round of the customers, she made such a clatter, everyone in the saloon looked up.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, trying desperately not to turn around and chase Cole down for a second time.
Mate! Must help our mate!
her wolf shrieked, clawing wildly at the door of the mental cage she kept it locked behind.
She ground her teeth and took a deep breath. Cole needed some time, and holy cow, she did, too. She’d caught a glimpse of his eyes before he hurried away, and the gray-on-gray storm clouds she loved gazing at had bolts of lightning in them now. The classic sign of a Changeling, or so she’d heard.
Cole. Changeling. Wolf?
Mine! Mate!
She closed her eyes, trying to process it all. It wasn’t withdrawal that had made Cole moody these past few weeks — it was the Change happening inside him. Slowly perhaps, due to the small size of the scratch, but inexorably. And now, the transformation was accelerating.
No wonder her wolf had suddenly gone bonkers for him. As long as Cole was fully human, fate could keep her mate disguised. But now that he was turning into a shifter, his scent had intensified. Magnified. Maximized, so there was no mistaking it.
He was the one! Hers! Her destined mate!
Her heart pounded in her chest, so fast and hard, it felt like her ribcage might crack. She grabbed at the edge of the counter, fighting the overwhelmingly giddy feeling of it all.
Jesus, it really did happen. Destiny, bringing two souls together. Forever.
Her heart skipped, but her stomach lurched, remembering the way Cole stood beside his pickup. She’d cringed when she saw what he’d unconsciously done as she approached — namely, testing the air with his nose. Swinging his head left and right like a wolf following a faint trail. Tipping his chin up.
When his eyes met hers, the storm gray was lit with tiny flashes of green and brown. A telltale indicator of a Changeling — or man going slowly mad.
She wanted to grab him by the hand, race to her car, and drive far, far away.
As if that would work. As if she could outrun fate.
Her wolf raised its nose and let out a long, mournful howl.
Humans wounded by shifters usually died a drawn-out and painful death. Only a tiny minority survived, and most of those went slowly mad. Only the tiniest fraction survived — like Kyle Williams, the Twin Moon wolf who worked as a state cop. He and Rick Rivera, Tina Hawthorne’s mate, were the only two survivors Janna knew of. Women bitten by male shifters had a much higher survival rate because their bodies
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